


Sight

by jensenacklesruinedmylife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, Human Castiel, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:32:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensenacklesruinedmylife/pseuds/jensenacklesruinedmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soooooo I’m thinking of a human!cas ficlet where he’s somewhat afraid of the dark, and when he’s in the bunker, there’s a storm and the lights somehow go off and he’s freaking out because its pitch black so while Sam tries to find a generator Dean runs into Cas’s room to figure out what the hell he’s yelling about and this is off the top of my head to bear with me :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sight

Sam and Dean spend weeks searching for Cas. When they finally find him, he’s holed up in a crappy motel just outside Colorado, having managed to find some money. The first night Cas spends in the bunker, there’s a killer storm, and somewhere around 3AM, the lights go out. Dean wouldn’t have known this if Cas hadn’t screamed bloody fucking murder from his room down the hall. After Dean gets out the flashlights he’d placed under his bed, he opens his door and sees Sam’s tall form walking toward him. He hands Sam one of the flashlights with a grunt, hoping he can figure out some way to get the damn lights back on, and then Dean goes to find out what Cas is freaking out about. The ex-angel was still getting his feet wet when it came to being human, and although Sam constantly teased him about being a ‘mother hen’, Dean was simply concerned that Cas would get hurt doing something stupid, like earlier, when he almost stuck his hand on the stove. While it was on.

“How else am I supposed to know when it has reached an acceptable temperature, Dean?” he’d asked, completely serious.  
“You guess, okay? Or, ya know what? No cooking for you.”

Dean shakes his head now as he knocks on Cas’s bedroom door. It’s always ajar, but Dean wants Cas to have at least some sense of privacy. When Cas doesn’t answer, though, Dean pushes it open a little with the head of the flashlight in his left hand.   
“Hey, Cas?”   
Cas is sitting on his bed, legs drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, and Dean can tell he’s shaking. His eyes are squeezed shut.  
“Cas, man, you okay?”   
“No,” Cas says, sounding terrified, “I’m not okay. This storm, it’s…it has taken away my sight.”

Dean just stares for a moment, flashlight tipped downward, casting shadows on the wooden floor.

“Cas, what are you talking about?” he asks, taking a few steps forward until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, within arms reach of Cas.   
“I heard a loud noise, and when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t see!” Cas sounds panicked now, and Dean doesn’t like it.   
“Cas, calm down, it’s just the lights. The power is out, that’s all.”   
Cas shakes his head like he doesn’t believe Dean, and Dean sighs, because Cas is the most pessimistic, ridiculous being he’s ever met, and yet, somehow, it’s almost endearing.   
“I can’t see, Dean,” Cas repeats, “First I fall, and now my human body is deteriorating, and what’s next? My voice? My hearing?”   
“Cas,” Dean says, loudly, and Cas jumps. Dean sighs again, turns off the flashlight and maneuvers himself so he’s sitting directly in front of Cas, who hasn’t changed positions.  
“Cas, look at me,” Dean says softly.  
Cas, of course, shakes his head no.   
“Come on, man, open your eyes. You can see just fine.”   
“I can’t,” Cas says sternly, “I lost my sight once already after I fell, and now I’ve lost even the most basic use of the human eye-.”   
“Cas!” Dean yells this time, and Cas is startled enough that he actually opens his eyes, blinking sporadically.   
“Everything’s so dark, I can’t-.”   
“That’s because the lights are out, ya baby,” Dean says, slightly annoyed. “You haven’t gone blind, okay? Your eyes just need time to adjust to the darkness.”  
“Adjust?”   
“Yeah, it’s something eyes do when it’s either too light or too dark. You’ll be able to make things out in a few minutes, alright? I promise.”   
Cas nods, and his blinking becomes more normal after a while.  
“I…can see your face.”  
“See?” Dean says, smiling a little, “what’d I tell ya? Everything’s fine. Relax.”  
Cas let’s go of his legs and sits Indian style, mimicking Dean’s posture. Thunder rumbles in the distance.  
“I still don’t like this,” Cas says softly.  
“Well, yeah, no one really like storms-.”   
“No, no,” Cas interrupts, “this,” he says, gesturing towards his body. “This…humanness.”   
The way Dean hears it, it sounds like Cas is disgusted, and it makes him wince.   
“Cas, come on, we talked about this. We’ll find a way to get your grace back, okay?”   
“It won’t work,” Cas deadpans, “Metatron has too much power, and now that all the angels are either dead or human, there’s nothing we can do.”   
“Hey, Sam and me did a hell of a lot for a couple of humans!” Dean shoots back, offended. “We’ve all been to hell and back, and look at us!” Dean opens his arms wide, points to himself. “Alive and kickin’.”  
“But, Dean-.”   
“I know not being an angel anymore must be hard for you, but it doesn’t mean you’re helpless! You’re not gonna deteriorate, alright?”   
“I’ve already lost my sight.”   
“Cas, you just said you could see my-.”   
“Your face, yes, but I can’t see your soul.” 

And Dean’s not sure what to say, because Cas sounds devastated. Also, what?

“You…you used to be able to see my soul?”   
“Yes, Dean. I could see all of you, everything that made you what you are, all of it. Your soul was scarred and tattered, but reparable. And your heart…” Cas pauses, reaching a hand up to place a palm on the left side of Dean’s chest. “Your heart was so pure, it shined.”   
Dean quirks a brow at that. “My hearts was…shiny?”   
“Not your physical heart, of course, but in essence, yes.” Cas looks up from where his hand is and searches Dean’s face.  
“What?” Dean asks, feeling uncomfortable under Cas’s intense gaze.   
“I used to be able to see every single freckle on your face,” Cas says, moving his hand to run a thumb over the bridge of Dean’s nose. “You have 29.”  
“Only 29?” Dean asks, surprised at how small he sounds.  
“On your face. You have about 108 freckles, total.”   
“Really?” And Dean’s curious because when he was younger, he’d actually counted his freckles, but only got to 71 before giving up.   
“Yes,” Cas answers, running his hand down Dean’s neck and over his shoulders, “you have some here, and here, and-.” Cas stops abruptly and snaps his hands away.   
Dean decides to ignore the voice in his head that tells him he misses the touch.  
“Sorry,” Cas says, “personal space, I forgot, I’m sorry.”   
“No, it’s…” Dean trails off, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a touch-starved teenager with a crush. But what is he supposed to do? Cas looks ashamed of himself, like he’s worried Dean is going to get mad, and the lights are still out, but Dean can make out the blue of Cas’s eyes, and he gets an idea, and before his brain can list the hundreds of reasons why he shouldn’t, Dean leans in and kisses him.

The kiss lasts longer the Dean expects, because Cas doesn’t immediately pull away. He does, though, after about ten seconds.   
“Dean?”   
“Humans close their eyes when they kiss,” Dean says quickly, before he forgets what he want he’s trying to say.  
“Yes, I’m aware of that, Dean, but why-.”   
“Did you close your eyes?”  
“I…yes? Dean, I’m not-.”   
“How did you know it was me if your eyes were closed?”   
Cas makes a face like he’s pondering Dean’s question, clearly confused.   
“I’m…not sure. Dean, please, just explain to me what you-.”   
“You didn’t need to see me, Cas, because you could feel me.”   
Cas blinks, looking dumbfounded. Dean huffs in frustration, wishing he was better at this whole talking thing.  
“I know you think you’re nothing without your powers, and maybe you can’t see the light shining from my soul or whatever, but you’re still you, Cas, and I’m still me, and we’re still, uh, profoundly bonded. You don’t have to see my soul to know I’m here, okay?” Dean lifts his hands to place them on either side of Cas’s face. “Now, you can feel me.”

Cas is quiet for a few beats, letting Dean’s words roll over in his mind.   
“Human touch is a fascinating sensation,” he says quietly, covering Dean’s hands with his own. “I think…I think I might like it.”

The lights come on then, and Dean hears Sam cheer to himself before he calls, “Fixed it! Goodnight!” And a door slams shut. He chuckles and looks at Cas, whose face catches the glow of the now working lamp on the bedside table. He moves his hands from Cas’s face and places them in his lap.  
“So, first power outage. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dean asks, and Cas let a laugh escape his pink lips.   
“Not so bad at all,” he replies. “I almost forgot that the lights weren’t on. I think you distracted me.”   
“Yeah, I’m good at that,” Dean smiles. He moves to get off the bed, but Cas catches his arm before he can stand.  
“Dean, could you,” Cas swallows, worrying is lower lip between his teeth and Dean thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.   
With a laugh, he sits back down. “Could I what, Cas?”   
“Stay? Please?” Cas asks, voice so quiet it’s barely a whisper. “I want to try sleeping with the light off tonight, since I’m not alone anymore, but it would help if I had someone with me, just in case I…in case…”   
“Hey, shhh, no worries, Cas, I’ll stay,” Dean replies, “Here, move over.”   
And Cas does, tossing a thin blanket over both of their bodies. Dean reaches up to turn off the lamp, and the room is pitch black again.  
“Dean,” he says warily, “maybe I’m not ready to-.”   
“Hey,” Dean says, finding Cas’s hand under the blanket, “I’m right here.”   
“You’re here,” Cas repeats, squeezing Dean’s hand and curling into him before closing his eyes. Dean let’s it happen, feeling a little girly, but not minding it enough to leave. He wraps his free arm around Cas’s waist and kisses his cheek.

“I’m here,” Dean says again, “I’ll always be here.”

With a yawn, Dean closes his own eyes, and he’s seconds away from sleep when he hears Cas whisper, “I know.”


End file.
